He continued, "There's a war on, Mrs. Haley. It seems there's always a war on, somehow. And everybody--you, me, the guy down the street who skins ships for a living--we all have to remember that. And yet some of us don't. Some of us go off on a tangent and try to sell out our country and then there's hell to pay. And if we're found guilty, we get the execution. The Neg-Emote." The girl's lips began to tremble. She looked up. "Does it hurt, Tony? I mean...." "Physically? No, of course not." A corner of his mouth curled. "We're humane nowadays, hadn't you heard? We just strap a man in a chair and press a button and down comes a metal hood over him. We press some more buttons and pull a switch or two, and that's that. No feeling, nothing. The man's as good as new except he has no emotions any more. No emotions whatever except personal physical pain, such as he'd need in case somebody stepped on his toe or jabbed him with a pin. The State wants us to protect ourselves, you see. It wouldn't want us getting hurt because we don't feel anything." He stopped because it was getting harder to continue. "We used to call it 'stripping,' but that was long ago before the humane boys decided the term was a little cruel. Now it's just Neg-Emoting. But the same thing. Just a fancy title." Her big eyes were suddenly eating into his. "What do they do with them, Tony?" He shrugged again. "Send 'em off to Training. Some can be taught this, some that, but a living death nevertheless. What else can a traitor expect?" The girl began to tremble all over. "Not Johnny! They can't do that to Johnny! He's innocent, Tony--he didn't do anything! Tony, tell them that! Tell them to let him go...." He put his teeth together hard. What do you say to a woman who sits across from you, waiting the long, long wait? What do you say to a woman like this when you see the terror--and something else--in eyes like hers? "You like the guy, Mrs. Haley?" he asked gently. "That's old-fashioned as hell, you know. We all learn that way back in primaries." But the woman wasn't listening again, wasn't caring what he'd said. She began to whisper very softly: "In the nights I used to be frightened. I used to lie there asleep and dream of the ships coming down and spraying the house with the burn-waves. And I could hear the roaring thunder of the jets and the house would start to shake and I'd try to yell, but I couldn't. Something inside would be choking me. And just when the burn-waves would be coming hot through the window and licking at the walls inside the room, I'd scream myself awake and jump up in bed and the sweat would be pouring off me." Tony stared, incredulous, into the big balls of fright that her eyes had become.